


Without You I'll be Miserable At Best.

by TheQueen (NotTheQueen)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, F/M, From Yevgeny's perspective, Future!Fic sort of, Gallavich are fathers., Gallavich gets married., Heartache, I apologize in advance, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mickey cares he just has a hard time showing it, Military, Sort of fluff at times, Sort of homophobic behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotTheQueen/pseuds/TheQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yevgeny was two when Svetlana left.</p><p>Mickey had a hard time deciding whether it was a gift from God or a curse, because he'd been left with the child that he had never been certain that was his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without You I'll be Miserable At Best.

Yevgeny was two when Svetlana left.

Mickey had a hard time deciding whether it was a gift from God or a curse, because he'd been left with the child that he had never been certain that was his.

A messily scrawled note had been left on the refrigerator door for Mickey to read when he had arrived home that evening, toting the two-year-old boy on his hip. For a few moments, Mickey had stood still, allowing the relief to wash over him as he thought about the freedom her disappearance would bring him. Mickey would be free to be with Ian, even though he had granted himself that freedom two years prior when he had outed himself in front of an entire bar of people. Free of the haunting memories that seized him every time Mickey was forced to lay eyes upon the Russian prostitute, who had arguably destroyed a portion of Mickey's life the day she had stepped into it. Svetlana had brought so much misery into Mickey's life, he couldn't even be bothered to pretend that he was not relieved about her disappearance.

Mickey's relief only lasted for a few moments, the soft snuffling sounds of the child clutched to his chest causing the relief to crumple. Over the two years that the boy had been in his life, Mickey had come to love the child, but that definitely did not mean he knew what to do with it. His gaze flickered down to the small boy, who stared up at Mickey with wide, clear blue eyes, as he proceeded to worry his lower lip between his teeth. In Mickey's mind, there was only one thing to do.

Ian had arrived minutes after receiving Mickey's urgent call. His breathing labored and his eyes wide with concern, Ian had burst through the front door of the Milkovich home to find Mickey seated on the couch, silently watching as Yevgeny played with his makeshift child's toys.

At the sight of the two without any clear physical harm, Ian had visibly relaxed before Mickey had risen to his feet and jerkily gestured for Ian to follow him into the kitchen. Risking a glance in Yev’s direction, Ian noted that the boy continued playing unphased by Ian’s arrival, before following Mickey from the room.

"She's gone," Mickey had stated bluntly as soon as Ian had trailed into the kitchen behind him, already pulling the tab on a beer can he had retrieved from the refrigerator as he lounged against the countertop.

Ian had remained silently for a minute, attempting to place who Mickey was speaking of. Sensing Ian's confusion, Mickey had waved a hand in the general direction of the note placed upon the counter. Glancing at the note, Ian's eyes narrowed as he read the messily scrawled letter, an inner conflict wagging as he flet betrayed for Yev's sake, but felt relieved for both his and Mickey's.

"So, what are you planning on doing?" Ian questioned, idly scratching at the underneath of his jaw with his thumb as he focused his gaze on Mickey.

Remaining propped against the counter, Mickey furrowed his brows at the other male’s question. What did Ian mean, “what's Mickey going to do”?

Sensing Mickey's confusion, Ian automatically continued, "Are you going to keep him?"

The question had a chill running through Mickey's bloodstream. Of course he's going to keep Yev, he is, presumably, Mickey's child after all. Despite the struggles that they had faced together, Mickey had long since stopped resenting the small child for his participating in destroying the life that Mickey had once wished to live.

His body practically vibrating with his sudden anger, Mickey's eyes had narrowed in a cool glare as his attention focused on Ian. "Of course I am. I'm not going to put him in the system because his slut of a mother fucking fled. I don't know if you remember, but I've been in and out of the system my entire life. That shit's fucked up. I'm not doing that to my kid. You have a problem with that you know what the door is," Mickey had practically spat, his jaw tense with a combination of his fear and uncertainty, wondering if Ian would finally decide that he’d had enough of the trouble that seemed to constantly surround Mickey and his family.

Ian’s expression had quickly morphed into something that could have been interpreted as regret, clearly coming to the conclusion that his choice of words had been poor. “Mick, I just meant you’re the one who always said you never wanted him in the first place. Is it really that far fetched to wonder if you’re actually serious about keeping Yev?”

For what it had been worth, Ian had been right. Mickey had never truly wanted the child and had simply been stuck with him when the child had been brought into his life. However, somewhere along the line, not that Mickey would ever admit to it, the boy had somehow managed to worm his way into Mickey’s life. Mickey had come to accept the child, care for him and maybe go as far to say there was a small amount of love that he felt for the boy.

Rubbing his thumb at the corner of his lower lip, Mickey’s gaze shifted to focus on Yev, who continued to play contently in the living room, seemingly unaware of the fact that Ian and Mickey were discussing the possibilities of his future.

“I’m keeping him,” Mickey had stated firmly, an abrupt nod going along with his words.

As Mickey had turned his gaze back to rest on Ian, he was met with a combination of acceptance and a surprising lack of surprise on the other man’s face. That was that. Though neither of them knew exactly how they would manage, Mickey knew that Ian would be just as dedicated as he was to raising the young boy.

*******************

Yevgeny was four when Ian was accepted into the military again, this time as Ian Gallagher instead of Lip.  How he had managed it, Ian wouldn’t ever be sure, though he had a lingering suspicion that Lip had something to do with his acceptance.

Despite the strong foundation that Mickey and Ian had built in their lives, Ian couldn’t help but want more. Just something more. The remaining  in one place for so long had always made Ian’s skin crawling, and miraculously Mickey had managed to understand that.

Ian had managed to get through the ten weeks of basic training without a hitch. The ten weeks had been long on Mickey’s end as he attempted to adjust to living a life without Ian after the six years that they had been together. The four years that Ian had managed to worm his way into Mickey’s life in a way Mickey had always expected him to.

The Gallaghers, Mandy, Mickey and Yevgeny had traveled the distance to watch Ian graduate from basic. If Mickey’s eyes had been wet, he would always blame it on the fact that his allergies were acting up that day, never mind the fact that Mickey’s allergies were nonexistent.

Ian had developed and grown from the fifteen year old boy who had stormed into Mickey’s room, crowbar in hand as he demanded the return of a stolen gun. Ian had grown, just as Mickey had. Even if he would never admit it, Mickey had come to believe that those changes were for the better.

After having returned home for two short weeks, Ian was hastily shoving his required gear into his duffle bag placed unceremoniously on the end of their bed while Mickey and Yev sprawled across  the bed watching him silently.

The silence between the family was thick. Ian radiated anxiety and excitement as Mickey attempted to control his fear, ashamed that something so simple has him ridden with such an emotion.

Yevgeny stretched his small arms in Ian’s direction, confused as to why his Ian was packing his things after having just returned home after a long period of being away.

Too young to understand the reasoning of Ian’s leaving, Yev still still somehow managed to understand that one of his two fathers wouldn’t be home. He felt rather than understood the tension in the room, and in an attempt to ease it to the best of his abilities, he sought to comfort Ian.

A small smile had curved upon Ian’s lips as he pulled the petite body of the little boy from the bed and into his arms. Tan in contrast to Ian’s pale flesh, Yevgeny settled his head against Ian’s shoulder and clung to his neck.

Mickey had remained frozen upon the bed, silently watching the exchange between his son and Ian. It was hard for Mickey to decide who would miss Ian more, himself or Yev, both had gotten so accustomed to having Ian as a permanent fixture in their home.  

Later that evening after Yevgeny had fallen asleep and Ian had laid him down in his bed, the pair basked in the post coital bliss, a silence fell between them again.

“It’s just nine months, Mick,” Ian had eventually said as his fingers roamed the bare expanse of Mickey’s back as he laid draped across Ian’s bare chest. “Nine months isn’t forever.”

To Mickey, the prospect of nine months had felt like forever. Nine months without seeing Ian felt daunting. Terrifying even.

Nine months where Mickey would be solely responsible for their child. Nine months where Mickey didn’t have Ian to fall back on when he needed the support or struggled to deal with the twists that his life brought. Nine months where Mickey would be alone. But nine months wasn’t forever, right? Mickey had gone without Ian longer than that in the past and he was certainly capable of doing it again.

*************

Yevgeny was six when Mickey and Ian legally wed.

After Ian’s first stationing and deployment, the couple had been met with legal struggles as to the rights that they possessed and rights that they were unable to obtain because of their relationship status.

For that reason, and that reason alone, (Damn you, Ian, I am not wearing a goddamn monkey suit just to prove that I fucking love you) is the reason that Mickey adorned a tuxedo and attended his second wedding ceremony. No matter the fact that Mickey actually hadn’t had a choice in the first marriage.

In order for the marriage to be legal, Mickey and Ian had had to go through the process of hunting down Svetlana, which was far harder than it should have been. Numerous times, Mickey had decided that the work was far too much for the outcome, but Ian had persevered and found the woman.

It was because of Ian that they both stood beneath the altar in the Alibi Room, the same place that Mickey’s first, and forced, marriage had occurred.

The room had been full with a surprising amount of people. Many friends that Ian had made during his time at the gay club in North Side, some family members from both the Gallagher and the Milkovich side (We’re inviting your family, Mickey. Not everyone can be as destructive and hideous as your father. They’re your family, Mick. They should be there for this), some random people from the South Side who never missed a chance to party.

Mickey and Ian had clasped hands beneath the altar and Lip had been ordained to perform the service for them.

Yevgeny, despite his complaints and blatant disapproval, had been the ring bearer. While nothing else about the wedding had been orthodox, Ian had demanded that much from both Mickey and Yev, so in order to please Ian the small boy had done what he was asked to do. Yev had dawned the stifling suit that Ian had chosen for him and had allowed his father to slick back his dark hair.

Despite having exposed his sexuality six years before, the countless eyes resting upon Ian and Mickey while the ceremony was conducted, had Mickey’s skin crawling. Mickey had tugged at the color of his shirt, attempting to gain control of himself even as Ian had leveled Mickey with a knowing smile. Fuckin’ Gallagher.

By the time the reception had rolled around, Yev had been antsy to get out of the suit that he had been forced into. He had spent the entire ceremony alternating between paying rapt attention, soaking in the time that he had with both his parents, and struggling to focus in the confines of the restricting suit.

Ian, having noted Yev’s struggle during the ceremony, had nudged the young boy in the direction of the backroom, instructing him to change before hurrying back so they could serve the food.

Yev had done just that, and when the food had been served, Yev had been sat next to his older cousin, Liam Gallagher, Ian’s youngest brother who seemed to adore Yev just as much as Yev adored him..

While never vocal in his adoration, Yevgeny had always enjoyed spending time with Liam, finding the fact that the boy, while three years older than he was, didn’t seem to mind hanging around the ‘baby’ like his other cousin Carl had.

“Do you like first grade?” Liam had asked, munching on his potatoes as he spoke to Yevgeny, paying rapt attention to the smaller boy, which was another thing that Yev adored about Liam. He always paid attention. Even when Yev was rattling on about a stupid toy Ian had purchased for him, Liam always paid attention.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Yev had replied, “I dunno. Mrs. Henderson is kind of smelly and yells a lot. Daddy says she just has a stick up her ass since her husband left her.”

Liam had laughed at that, his eyes squinting shut as his lips parted and his head fell backward. Yev enjoyed the sound of Liam’s laughter, and had contentedly munched on his roll while he glanced around.

As Yev focused on Ian and Mickey sitting at the head of his table, he had smiled despite himself. Mickey and Ian were doing what they always did, sneaking glances at each other when they thought no one was looking, clasping hands beneath the table. Despite the fact that he’d only been six, Yev was observant and had aged well beyond his years.

When Yev was younger, he hadn’t understood why he had two daddies and why no one else did. But then, since he’d been a big boy and in first grade, he understood that sometimes people are different. Sometimes boys like boys and sometimes girls like girls, and that was alright.

After the reception had died down and everyone had returned home, Ian had tucked Yev into his bed for the evening, despite the boy’s complaints that he was a “big boy” and didn’t need him to do such a thing. Secretly, Yev enjoyed having Ian tuck him into bed. Enjoyed Ian threading his fingers through Yev’s dark and sometimes matted hair, which he had gotten from his father as Ian liked to inform him. While Yev loved Mickey fiercely, when Ian was gone away because of his position in the army, it just wasn’t the same and Yev counted down the days until Ian was able to tuck him into bed again.

Once Ian had returned to their room, he had shed his shirt and crawled into bed beside Mickey, content with just laying sprawled in each other’s embraces for a portion of their evening. Mickey had shifted, supplying Ian with space to stretch out, before promptly collapsing back on Ian’s pale chest.

“Eight years, Mick,” Ian had murmured, burying his fingers in Mickey’s dark hair which stuck up in random directions. Mickey didn’t have to ask what Ian was talking about because he already knew. It had been eight years since Mickey and Ian had established their relationship. Eight years of hardships and struggles. Eight years of love and emotions neither of them had understood at first.

Despite the challenges that they had faced, Mickey would never even consider changing a single thing from their past.

**************

Yevgeny was eight when he got into his first fight at school, two years older than Mickey had been when he had gotten into his (Ian and Mickey definitely had not taken bets on how long it would take for the child to do so. And damn it, Ian owed Mickey a blowjob for that one, not that Ian necessarily minded).

Third grade was tough, at least Yev thought it was. Sometimes the other children were mean, but Yev had gotten used to the name calling and the sharp tongue of his other classmates, had long since learned to brush off the insults and not allow the others to see how it affected him.

However, Ian had been gone for eight months and both Yev and Mickey missed him. Though Yev and Mickey loved each other, home just wasn’t the same without Ian.

Yev had gotten good at ignoring the insults that were directed at him for being a bastard, a Russian whore’s child, an ugly little bitch. Yev had not been able to ignore the insults that were hurled at him because of his fathers and their relationship.

As Yevgeny sat in the chair before the Principal's desk, he had bowed his head in shame, expecting Mickey to come barreling in radiating anger. With his knuckles bruised and his left cheek swollen, Yev had gotten off better than Andrew Cleevs had. Once Yev’s fist had connected with the other boy’s face, it was as if a trigger had been released and he was unable stop from repeatedly striking the boy, his anger directed in each punch, taking out months of built up aggression from the insults the boy had hurled in his direction.

The sound of a knock upon the Principal’s door had Yev flinching and hunching in on himself further. Mickey had never, and would never, strike Yev or said any hurtful words to the young boy. That doesn’t mean that Yev hadn’t seen his father angry and taking his actions out on other people. Yev had seen Mickey get into plenty of fights with numerous other people and had learned to be weary of his father’s anger, especially when Ian wasn’t around to ease the tension and Mickey’s frustration.

The sound of approaching footsteps did nothing to ease Yev’s concern. Squeezing his eyes shut, Yev’s arms remained wrapped tightly around his own torso as he waited for the disapproval is father would undoubtedly vocalize. Why Yevgeny believed his father would be angry because of the fight, Yev didn’t know. All he knew was that he was prepared for the worst.

After the footsteps had stopped just to his left and silence stretched throughout the room, Yevgeny had peered through his lashes at the shoes of his father. His eyes widened in surprise at the camo printed BDU pants and hardware boots before him, far from what he had expected to see.

Tilting his head, Yev’s lips had curved up in a smile at the sight of not Mickey towering above him, but Ian. Ian, who had been gone for eight months and hadn’t been due back for another three weeks.

Scrambling from his seat, Yev had wrapped his arms tightly around Ian’s waist, clinging tightly to convey his relief at Ian’s return.

After returning Yev’s embrace for several moments, Ian had placed his index finger beneath Yev’s chin, forcing the boy to look at him before questioned calmly, “You want to tell your father and I what happened, Yevgeny? Principal Stevens informed us over the phone that you’ve been unwilling to speak about the occurrence with him .”

Swallowing thickly, Yev had twisted his head to find Mickey lingering in the doorway and watched as his father furrowed his brows upon seeing his son’s face. Mickey’s eyes lingering on his son’s swollen cheek, a dark bruise already beginning to form.

Releasing Ian from his embrace, Yev had turned and clambered back into the chair he had previously vacated. With a tip of his head, Yev began to explain the previous events on the playground. “I was swinging on the swings with Peter, mindin’ my own business because Dad says that’s how every man should spend his break,” Pausing in his speech, Yev had glanced in Mickey’s direction to find his father nodding in agreement.

Pleased with the reaction, Yev had continued, “When Andrew Cleevs came up to me like he normally does. Normally, I ignore him. Daddy Ian always said that the best way to deal with bullies is to ignore them and not give them the satisfaction of letting them hurt you.” Again, Yevgeny had paused and glanced in Ian’s direction, watching as the man’s lips had quirked upward in a pleased smile.

In an attempt to get his story out before he could falter with shame or embarrassment, Yev continued on, speaking faster than normal, “He’d call me names. A bastard, a son of a Russian whore, or even an ugly little bitch. I didn’t mind though. He didn’t upset me, even though sometimes he made Peter cry a little when he yelled and said those things. But today, he said that my dads are f-f,” Hesitating, Yev bowed his head in the shame he had been attempting to avoid before he continued. “He said they were faggots and would be sent to Hell because God doesn’t love homo pieces of shit like them. It made me real angry because nobody can talk about them like that. Maybe God doesn’t love them, but I do. So I hit him, because I was so mad.”

Yev’s words tapered off and his gaze remained focused on his lap. A silence stretched between the three adults before Yev heard Mickey release a noise of frustration and clamber to his feet.

“You fuckin’ kidding me? My son’s being bullied and you pieces of shit aren’t doing anything to stop it? Where the fuck are the goddamn teachers when this shit is going down? Huh? I can’t fucking blame him for punching the kid. The shit had it coming. You can’t punish Yevgeny because this little sick bastard purposely tormented him for weeks. Maybe if you had done your goddamn jobs instead of sat around like the lump of fat you are, this shit wouldn’t of happened,” Mickey fumed, his voice continuing to rise in volume as he spoke.

Yev had stared at his father in shock. Mickey loved Yev, but he was never vocal about protecting his son, that had always been Ian. Now, Mickey was fuming because a kid had insulted Yev, he hadn’t even seemed to notice that the child had called Mickey and Ian names.

Ian had risen to his feet along with Mickey, but when he spoke his voice was firm and he didn’t speak with the anger Mickey had. “Mr. Stevens, I believe we’ve found the source of the problem. There are flaws in your school system, not in my child. If your staff managed to pay attention to the children during their break, none of this would have happened. I assure you, Yevgeny will apologize to this Cleevs boy for the harm he inflicted, but I demand that my son receive one in return. I suggest you start figuring out where your flaws lie in your school system, before I take the matter to higher officials. Now, my husband and I are going to take Yevgeny home with us. It seems like there has been enough excitement for the day. I assume you will touch base with me if there are further issues?” Ian had already begun to move in the direction of the door, his hand planted firmly on Yev’s shoulder to direct the boy with him. The way that Ian spoke left no discussion, nothing for the principal to say or add.

Without any other noises from the principal, Ian, Mickey, and Yev had made their way from the small office and into the lobby of the main office. When Yev’s eyes had landed on Andrew sitting with his own family in the lobby, he had cast the boy a smile of triumph. Yev would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of the split lip and numerous bruises that littered the other boy’s flesh.

Walking from the school building, Mickey stood to Yev’s left while Ian loomed to his right. The silence that had started when they had existed Mr. Stevens’ office lasted until they were off of school property.

Pulled to a stop by the two hands on Yev’s shoulders, he looked up in surprise, his gaze flickering from his two fathers’ faces.

“Jesus, kid. You sure did a number on that little shit, didn’t you?” Mickey stated, his voice sounding something like proud as his lips quirked upwards in a look of something like elation.

“Mickey,” Ian had chastised with a roll of his eyes, squeezing Yev’s shoulder to let the boy know that he wasn’t angry by any means.

That night, after the family had celebrated Ian’s return and Yev’s first fight, Ian had tucked the boy into bed. Returning to his own room, Ian had paused in the doorway, allowing himself a moment to relish in the sight of Mickey sprawled across their bed.

After a beat, Ian moved into the room and settled on the bed beside Mickey, tossing his arm around the smaller male’s waist while settling into his side.

In the last ten years, both Mickey and Ian had changed severely. Mickey had become more open to displays of affection, even if the lingering touches in the eye of the public still made his skin crawl. Behind closed doors, Mickey had become accepting of the lingering touches, no longer flinching away when Ian’s fingers stayed pressed against his flesh like he would have when they had first established their relationship.

Because of that comfort, Mickey managed to whisper into the flesh of Ian’s neck, “Love you,” because he wholeheartedly did.

*****

Yevgeny was ten when he decided that he had questions he needed answers to. He was ten after all, and he was officially a grown boy. He could handle it.

That doesn’t mean that night when the three of them had sat down for dinner, Yev hadn’t been quivering in his boots at the prospect of raising the questions.

Ian had made small talk, asking Yev about his day and his friends. He had asked Mickey about work and had listened intently when Mickey complained about another girl walking out of the business, what exactly this business is, Yev couldn’t tell you.

A pause in the conversation had Yev quickly blurting out his question before he could talk himself out of it. “How do I know if I’m gay like you?”

Both Mickey and Ian’s eyes had widened, glancing at each other before turning their attention to their child. Ian schooled his expression first, placing his fork down on the table to indicate that Yev had his full attention.

“What makes you ask, Yev?” Ian questioned softly, prompting Yevgeny to explain what had raised the question in his mind.

Because he hadn’t expected Ian to ask him a question in turn, the boy fumbled with an answer as his gaze fell to rest on his lap. Swallowing thickly, he had mumbled a reply beneath his breath, causing Ian’s brows to furrow.

“Wanna try that again? Louder this time?” Ian prompted gently again, his tone never changing from the soft understanding that he always seemed to adapt when speaking to Yev.

The sound of Mickey shifting in his seat had Yevgeny’s eyes flickering across the table, shifting between his two fathers before he exhaled a breath.

“Because Peter said I could catch the ‘gay’ from you and he said that since my best friend is Liam and I haven’t had a girlfriend that he thinks I’m gay,” the words are rushed as he expects one of his fathers to ridicule him or burst into one of their fits of anger.

There’s a silence at the table that seems to stretch for an eternity before the choked sound of Mickey’s laughter filled the air. Tilting his head to watch his father, Yev observed as Mickey slapped a hand on the table and wheezed out another laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“Peter told you you could catch the gay from us? What’s he think it is? A disease?” Seeming to find the thought even more humorous, Mickey snorted out another laugh before a look from Ian had him sobering immediately.

“Listen, Yev,” Ian began gently, taking time to choose his words carefully. “You won’t catch the ‘gay’ from us like Peter so kindly suggested. Besides, even if you were gay, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. It’s alright to be different. Remember when we told you that sometimes boys like boys and sometimes girls like girls? That doesn’t make them ‘wrong’. They’re just a bit different from everyone else in their preferences. Just because you’re best friend is Liam, it doesn’t make you gay. It’s perfectly acceptable to be friends with both girls and boys. As for not having a girlfriend, you’re in fucking fifth grade. Nobody should have a girlfriend, or boyfriend for that matter, at your age”

“So does that mean I’m not gay?” Yev had questioned in confusion, idly scratching at his neck as he focused Ian with a heavy gaze.

Ian had elevated his shoulders in a shrug, unable to speak for his son. “I don’t know, Yev. You’ll figure it out when the time is right. No one else can tell you what you like and what you don’t. Did you know you liked the color blue or did someone have to tell you?” Ian questioned, that being the best example he could think of in that moment, casting a glare in Mickey’s direction when the male had been brazen enough to snort at his words.

“I knew I didn’t like blue because it’s an ugly color,” Yev stated matter of factly, tipping his head in a nod.

“It’s like that then. Eventually you’ll know and it won’t be because someone said that you were or because someone thought you were different.” Ian had explained.

Satisfied for that moment, Yevgeny had picked up his fork and had proceeded to eat the broccoli and potatoes that Ian had piled on his plate previously.

Later that night, after Yev had tucked himself into bed (“I’m ten now, dad. I can do it myself. I’m not a baby.") Ian and Mickey laid sprawled across the couch. Ian’s feet rested in Mickey’s lap and Mickey rested his head back against the back of the couch.

For them, it felt domestic, a simple night where they just sat and enjoyed their time together. Granted, it didn’t happen often. With Yev growing and demanding so much of their attention and Ian constantly being on the move because of his position in the army, moments such as those were a rarity so they basked in them for as long as they could.

Mickey was the one who broke the silence, surprising Ian from his state of semi-consciousness. “What do we do if he is gay?”

The question had stumped Ian, he wasn’t exactly sure of what to offer as a reply. Mickey himself was gay, but the prospect of his child being the same upset him?

Sensing Ian’s confusion, Mickey quickly filled in the rest of what he had meant by his question. “I mean, what about how people will treat him? It’s not like it’s rainbows and fucking sunshine out there, Ian. He’ll get the shit beaten out of him. How do you protect a kid like that? I don’t want him viewing himself like I did. Hell, like even you did.”

Mickey’s display of emotion had surprised Ian. It wasn’t often that Mickey would open up in such a manner, even though their relationship had lasted twelve years already, it just simply wasn’t who Mickey was.

In a way to silently show his support and understanding, Ian had reached down and threaded their fingers together, allowing their clasped hands to fall onto his lap.

“We can’t protect him from that, if that’s the case, Mick. As much as we’d like to, we can’t protect him from everything.  But we can still be there with bandages and help him up if it should happen. He’ll be a good boy, Mick, he’ll be able to defend himself. He’s taken after you like that.”

Ian’s words had seemed to pacify Mickey, who had allowed his head to slump back against the sofa again and let his eyes drift closed.

Despite Mickey’s acceptance of the reply, Ian had come to learn that Mickey would continue to stew over his question himself, attempt to figure out answers on his own. When Mickey cared for someone, he wasn’t just one to sit back and watch as they were hurt. That just wasn’t Mickey, and it was one of the reason Ian adored him as much as he did.

*****

Yevgeny is twelve the first time Ian ever breaks a promise he made him. Ian promised that he would be home in time to attend his first official middle school football game, football being the sport that Ian had spent hours dedicated to help Yev practice since the small boy had gotten the idea of playing.

Ian had promised that he would be there, cheering in the stands, fresh back home from his fourth, and last, tour.

Ian had promised, but he broke that promise.

It was a week before Ian was due to return home. A week before the football game had been scheduled when a knock on the door had sounded throughout the house.

With Mickey not due home for another half an hour, Yev contemplated ignoring the knock on the door and continuing his homework as Ian had always instructed him to do. However, the knocking persisted and Yevgeny had grumpily shuffled from the dining room table and pried open the door.

Standing before him were two males, dressed in the clothing that he had seen Ian wear many times, the clothing with the camo print on it that signified a military officer.

The print reminded Yev of Ian, in which case he quickly looked around to see if he could spot his father. Maybe these two were bringing Ian home early. Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise, maybe Ian had come back early and they would be able to practice together before Yev’s game. Yev would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to have Ian watch him play, something that Ian had only been able to do on the videos that Fiona tapped at each game, because apparently aunts do embarrassing things like that.

When he didn’t catch sight of Ian, Yev’s brows had furrowed before he turned his attention to the closest male. The guy was short, Yev would guess that he was his dad, Mickey’s, height, while the man behind him was closer to being as tall as Ian.

Shorty quickly removed his hat, revealing his cropped dark hair that fit with his tanned skin. Clearing his throat, the man had questioned stiffly, “My name’s Captain Reynolds and this here is Captain Carter. Can you tell me if your father’s here, son?”

Immediately, Yevgeny disliked the tone of his voice. Yev could tell that whatever the man had to say would not be good news.

“Is this about my dad Ian? Is he in trouble?” Yev had blurted out his questions, remaining blocking the doorway as if he could truly prevent the two males from entering his house.

The two men had exchanged glances, a troubled look passed between them, before Captain Reynolds had turned his attention back to Yev. “I believe it would be best if you let me speak with your father. Mickey Milkovich, correct?”

The fact that the man refused to answer his question had Yev gritting his teeth. If there was one thing that he hated more than the brussel sprouts Mickey loved for a reason Yev did not understand, it was being ignored.

“He’s not here,” Yev had snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as he straightened his form in an attempt to seem taller and older than he was.

Reynolds tipped his head in a nod, as if he had been expecting that answer all along. “Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”

Just as Yevgeny had opened his mouth to answer the Captain’s question, he heard the sound of feet on the sidewalk and turned his attention to his father briskly approaching.

“Jesus, Yevgeny. What has Ian told you about answering the door when no one’s home? He’ll have my hide if you do that after he gets home,” Mickey’s rant paused as he finally took a moment to survey the two men on his front porch step.

“Shit,” Mickey had muttered after he had assessed them, his gaze quickly flickering over the yard and into the street, searching for something. Yevgeny already knew what Mickey was searching for because he had done the same thing when he had opened the door to find the two men standing there.

“Fuck no,” Mickey had whispered, but in the silence he could have yelled it and it wouldn’t have been louder.

The man, whose name Yev thought was Carter, strode off the porch and halted several feet from Mickey’s left, saying something for the first time since he had arrived at the Milkovich home. “Mr. Milkovich, it may be best if we go inside so we can talk.”

Mickey’s fingers had curled into fists at his side, his eyes narrowed at the male as he spat, “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me what’s best. You don’t know shit. I’m not interested in hearing whatever crock of shit you have to sell. Just go the fuck away. Ian’ll be home in a week and you can come back to talk to him then.”

Yev didn’t understand what Mickey was saying, why he was so angry all of a sudden, but he learned that when his father got that angry in such an amount of time, it was only because he was upset and didn’t know how else to convey the emotion.

“Mr. Milkovich,” the man had tried again only to have Mickey wave him off.

“What did I just fuckin’ say? I’m not interested in hearing it, alright?” Mickey’s confidence seemed to waver and when he turned his attention to his son, Yev knew immediately that something was amiss and upsetting his father.

“Yevgeny, go inside. I imagine you have homework to finish up. Ian won’t be too pleased if you’re failing classes when he gets home and aren’t able to play ball,” and as simply as that, Mickey had dismissed Yev.

Following his father’s instructions, Yev had ducked back into the house and returned to the kitchen table, but continued to try to strain to hear the conversation.

As he worked, Yev managed to pick on very few words but managed to piece it all together. “Gallagher,” “misfiring,” “accident,” “stray bullet,” “condolences,” “funeral rights.”

It wasn’t a lot of information to go on, but Yev had heard the words of anger his father had released and worked through the information himself.

Ian wasn’t going to be coming home for his football game like he had promised Yev, because Ian wouldn’t be coming home at all.

****

Yev was sixteen when he realized that Ian had been right all along.

He was sixteen and crouching before his father’s grave, a man that he had buried four years prior, but still missed like it was just yesterday.

Yev brushed a hand over the granite stone, carefully reading the words etched into the stone. “Ian Clayton Gallagher-Milkovich. October 9th, 1996 - September 1st, 2027.”

The longer Yev stared at the stone, the more he realized what he was thinking was true. Ian had been right all along.

Someone can’t just tell you who are you are. You just know. And Yev had known that Cassandra was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

When he was younger, Yev had been scared that he would never find a love like his fathers had. A love of ferocity and passion. A love of stolen tender touches and moments of adoration.

When he was younger, Yev had thought he would have to be gay just to find that type of love. He was wrong, and Ian, he was right.

Yev thought knew he wanted the same type of love that Mickey and Ian had shared, because after they had received the new of Ian’s death, Mickey wasn’t the same. Something had broken inside of Mickey when Ian’s heart had stopped beating.

That’s the price you pay for love. When you give yourself to someone wholeheartedly, they have the ability to make or break you. Though unintentionally, Ian had broken Mickey, but that was how Yev knew that what his fathers’ had was real. It was how Yev knew that he wanted that love, because if someone could love Yevgeny half as much as Mickey had loved Ian, he would never have to spend another day wishing for more.

That was the type of love Yevgeny wanted to find, and maybe he had managed to find it with Cassandra.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The idea came to me so I just started typing and this is the result.  
> In my defense, I know very little about the military or how any of it works. I apologize if any of the information is wrong.  
> I know the situation of Ian's death is highly unlikely, but I figured it was the best I could go on from the situation I had. Again, I'm sorry if any of it is wrong.  
> It's also unbeta'd, so if there are any errors, please feel free to point them out to me so I can correct them.  
> Thanks for reading. Feedback is always appreciated. ~


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